Sultry and Suspicious
by RetardButYouLoveIt
Summary: Sherlock was just getting used to his new life back, But is someone from his past about to reappear and turn everything upside down? AU Sherlock/OC John/Mary Mystrade Mentions of Drug abuse, suicide, self-harm
1. Prologue

_**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or any of the Sherlock franchise**_

_**Prologue**_:

I can feel myself falling into the abyss as I insert the needle, the cocaine giving me the breathless feeling I long for.

This is far more comforting than thoughts of him- No, don't go there, conceal, ignore, it's all fine.

I can feel every particle washing over my skin, the tingling in my fingertips grows and wraps around my arms then further throughout my body like a vine seeking purchase on a tree, as though if I were not there they could not survive or withhold themselves.

I try to recall the days so long ago when I did not need this, when I was happy and things were wonderfully imperfect, but it's too late, I'm too far gone. It's too much, too soon, too late.

I'm always too late.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

_Cassidy Holmes;_

_Age: 25_

_Status: Deceased_

_COD: __**Suicide**_

Sherlock slams closed the case file, it has been 6 years and he has yet to control his transport when it comes to her, his downfall.

He was always warned (Mycroft, the git) that love was a chemical defect found on the losing side, the side of the 'angels'.

She was no defect, she was nothing short of perfection, never less than enticing, nothing short of breathtaking, his muse, his whole purpose for life, even when she does not have one anymore. Mycroft would only say that to tease them, he adored Cassidy, everyone did.

Nobody who actually knows of his deceased wife dare mention her around him, everyone pretends she never happened. He hates that he can't talk about her to anyone, it just hurts too much. Thinking of all his life with her. Meeting at 5, officially dating at 13 and married at 18.

She was his everything, up until her startling suicide. He will never understand what happened, yes they fought like any couple but they were always happy. She always seemed happy, he knew she had depression issues but they were always open and honest with one another.

Well, he had thought they were.

Sherlock can remember the day vividly, waking up, morning shag, teasing each other over coffee and Lucky Charms, disgustingly adorable cuddling session on the couch until she had to go to class while he went to work at the lab to pass the dull hours of her absence, had he known it would be the last touch, last kiss, last look he would ever get of her he may have spent more time enjoying it.

He remembers the call, a doctor explaining the situation, saying he was sorry over and over and over until Sherlock snapped and wailed the phone at the wall as he broke down into sobs on the floor. Uncaring of the filth collecting on his clothes or the fact that his face was laying on a dirty floor of the morgue, Sherlock broke, losing everything he has ever known and cherished.

Mycroft dealt with all the arrangements, cremation, funeral and bringing his little brother back to his flat for a nice cup of tea and a sleep in a bed that did not bring up memories. Sherlock stayed with Mycroft until he could no longer put off going back to the flat.

"Sherlock! Hey! What are you thinking so hard about, Mate?! I asked if you wanted to go for lunch with Mary and me! We haven't seen you in ages!" John looked at him with a look of excitement and with worry creasing the corners of his eyes. Sherlock sighed dramatically and with a toss of the file onto the morgue countertop, he turns his focus to his enthusiastic best friend.

"I suppose I could eat."

"Great! Are you ready now? Mary and I are ready to go if you are." John is absolutely beaming now. Sherlock casts a glance at the file, he is pretty sure he is the only one left. The file lays on the counter top as Sherlock turns on his heel and glides out of the morgue with his trusty doctor trailing behind him nattering about the game from the previous night.

* * *

Molly runs through the corridor, she cannot believe she yet again forgot her keys in the drawer, where she had taken to hiding them from Sherlock, who on occasion decided he had the right to take her vehicle when he was too lazy or in too much of a rush to catch a cab.

As she rushes into the morgue she notices a file that had not been there when she had left, assuming it was the great genius she decided to refile it. When checking the name she was halted all movement in surprise at the name on the file, "Cassidy Holmes" As she opens the file just to take a quick glance, she didn't want to be too snoopy, her eyes slowly devour the whole file eyes widening the more she learns of the woman the mad bastard had never mentioned to anyone.

When finished, Molly stands in shock for a few minutes, gently sets the file back down, grabs her keys and rush out still reeling from learning of the man she adores wife.

* * *

John is finally done his shift, dozens of patients with the flu had left him drained and just ready for a nice cuppa and a snuggle with his wife, he waves to Sarah as he passed her office.

"Good evening Doctor Watson, done for the day are ya?" John turns to look at the drop dead gorgeous woman they had hired a few months ago.

"Yes Ma'am, thank Christ, if I had to see another patient today I may have fallen asleep on them!" John grinned at her as she laughed and wished him a nice evening

He turns and leaves with a "Goodnight Cass, don't work too hard" and with a wink he was gone missing the faltering of her smile and the dimming of her eyes as she prepares herself for the hell she is about to bring the poor man who has such a large heart and who works so hard for those who are in need, including a certain clueless consulting detective.

She sighs as she slowly starts to pack her things, not overly excited for what is awaiting her at her flat.


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or any of the Sherlock franchise.**

**SIDENOTE: I am going to start changing points of views at this point it is an almighty point of view that has insight of everyone but I am going to start dwelling into Cassidy, if you don't like it let me know. I will label the change in views.**

Chapter 2

Cassidy unlocks her door only to meet eyes with the chubby wanker sitting on her couch tapping his infuriating umbrella in impatience. She hangs her things purposely slowly, allowing the silence to hang between them like a guillotine.

She slowly turns and he gives her his falsely placating look before he breaks, stands and hugs her tightly, if not just a bit awkwardly. Her eyes fill with tears at the gesture, even though it is the wrong Holmes, it is nice all the same.

"When?" her shaky voice rings out between them.

"Thursday." She can hear the fear and apprehension in his voice but she nods and simply tries to block out what is about to happen and what it could mean for her.

"How do you think he will react?" she whispers with a stoic look on her face.

"You know him better than I." That is the answer she was afraid of, her façade breaks and her eyes fill with tears once again at the possibilities.

Mycroft and Greg were cuddled up in bed when Mycroft dropped the news.

Greg was shocked and angry and upset that his lover hadn't told him but slowly started to calm as Myc explained the situation and admitted his error. By the end of his explanation Mycroft was crying tears of sadness but also of frustration and terror, he didn't know how his brother would react but he prayed it would be positive.

After his explanation Greg held his lover and tried to calm the man as he broke down, they both confessed they were terrified for what was to come, her return would only bring chaos and heartbreak to the poor man who had already dealt with so much, but they were also cautiously excited for the possibility of a positive reunion between the couple.

Mycroft only hoped Cassidy knew what she was doing and that Sherlock would be more overjoyed than heartbroken.

**Cassidy's POV**

The craving is so strong I can almost taste the cocaine on my lips, my nose is tingling and my arm is aching for the needle.

I'm attempting to brush it all off and move on, but the stress of knowing our reunion is so close I am in need of some release, the blade against my thigh is a weak stand in but it will have to do, I made myself a promise.

I clean the wound, dress it and prepare myself for bed.

The sleeping pills are used to try to quell the nightmares but that are rubbish. Falling asleep is no problem, its staying asleep or falling back asleep that causes the issue, nothing but nightmares about what I have become and what I have done to get myself here, we will not speak of it, of _Them_.

Those whose lives I have taken and those whose lives I have ruined. I will never forgive myself and I have a glimmer of fear he will not either.

He has known me to do many stupid things in the years together, Tattoos, spontaneous trips neither of us could afford but that we took anyway, midnight chases. Anything to bring excitement and thrill into our otherwise boring lifestyle.

Oh, how I wish it could be boring once more, I would take it all back if I could.

I cannot but I will forever dream.

Mary and I are to have lunch tomorrow. I pray that they will forgive me for everything I have inadvertently done to them. If only they knew. Although I suppose they know, they know what it's like to crave the adrenaline, the rush, the chase.

First step is to tell John and Mary, from then I will tell Sherly, can I even call him that anymore? He's not mine, legally yes but his heart is closed. I can see it in his interactions, I have broken him, and I hope I can be the one to yet again bring him together.

We met when I was 5 and he was 6, his granddad had just passed away and he was completely shattered, heartbroken. So I offered him a token of happiness, my hand. After that first smile and laugh we were inseparable. His sparkling eyes and his laugh have always been my whole world, the reason for my existence, he is everything and I will always protect him.

I can feel myself slipping into an oblivion of bliss with the thought of his smile engrained into my thoughts, behind my eyelids.

_He grabs my hand and pulls me close, I can feel his breath on my neck, just like it's always been, like it never left. _

_He's running his hand down my side and I can feel his heartbeat under my palm, he is alive and well. I can feel him smile and whisper those three little words into my soul, who needs to hear when I can feel it all? _

_Oh my love, allow me to love you, I cannot get the words out. Why won't it work? What is wrong with me? _

_Oh my love don't give me that look, I love you, I'm trying to speak but the words will not come! Please! Look into my eyes, don't turn away! _

_All I can see are the tears in the corner of his eye as he turns away. I'm locked in chains, no escape. I'm trying to scream to you my love, listen to my soul. _

_My throat is raw you are looking at me with indifference and pity in your eyes and someone comes behind me. I feel their hands in my hair as they grip it tightly in their fist. _

_My love! Help me! The words are still unavailable to me._

_ I feel the wetness of my tears down the sides of my face as my captor tilts my head back and brings an object to my throat. _

_I feel the sting and the wetness drip down my front, nothing compared to the pain of those words he uttered in the deafening silence, those three blasted words. _

_I hate you, I love you, don't leave me, stay with me. None are yours but mine, oh no, yours are much more cruel, my breaking point as I fall to the ground, I'm dying, just allow it. Its repeating over and over in my head, why will death not allow me peace from this horrid void, my heart is destroyed and all it took were three. _

_"You're Too Late"_


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or any of the franchise. **

Chapter 3

**Cassidy's POV**

I awaken with a start, those three words running through my head like a sadistic mantra that makes me feel the need for the beautiful white powder.

Ignoring my urges I start to consider my day and what is to come.

It is the day, Thursday. After 6 years of no contact I will finally be able to make contact with my husband.

First things first, to go to Myc's office to smooth out details and tell the good doctor.

As I ready myself for the day I can feel the anxiety threatening to suffocate me. It feels as though my lungs are full of molasses, I can barely breathe and when I do its borderline hyperventilating. I don't know if I'm ready, but no greater time than the present.

As I enter the Government building, I can feel myself shaking as I make my way to Mycroft's office. I make my way through the small lobby, I can feel all the eyes on me, watching my every move, judging, waiting for me to make a wrong move.

Sigh... This is not helping my anxiety. I want to scream at them but I compose myself and stride with false confidence to the elevator that will lead me to my doom. Mycroft looks as torn as I do. I know he's with me, but if this goes south he will take it worse, after all he got me into this shit. I remember the day this bullshit started.

_It's so bright and sunny out, and I'm stuck in fucking Mycroft's black fucking car. Fucking git. This better be important, I just wanted a morning cuddle and snog with my lovely husband who is probably prowling our flat awaiting my return. I can feel the soft smile alight my face at the thought of his protective nature. I can also sense the bitch AKA Mycroft's girlfriend Alana smirking at my smile which wipes it right the fuck off my face. As soon as I see him I open my mouth to rip him a fucking new one when _

"_I have a proposition for you" comes out of his smug fucking mouth, because he knows how curious I am. As well as he knows how interested I would be due to his "minor" position in the British government, I just know this has something to do with the whole Queen and Country bullshit. I can feel the excitement rise within me and he utters the words "secret" "undercover" "paid" and "Afghanistan"._

_ Mycroft tells me how I am to go undercover within a terrorist group who are trying to fuck someone over whatever blah blah blah. I can feel the first spike of adrenaline after I sign a shitload of papers and he hands me the browning, the weight in my hands raises my confidence and makes me feel like an alpha male with the giant fucking 10 inch cock. _

That was the first time I lied to my husband, telling him I went to visit family in Ireland.

Being the naïve, loving man I adore he completely goes with it and tells me how much he will miss me and he hopes my trip goes well after I decline his offer to join me.

It only got worse from there, I took on dozens of missions that took me away from home, telling him I had a new marketing job that took me all around the world, and he never questioned me and just agreed and supported me through it all. God I love him. I don't deserve him.

I can feel Mycroft's eyes on me as I have a blast from the past. He looks away, Shame written all over his face regret, guilt and self-hatred. Good. He deserves it for what he did.

_I can see it on his face as soon as I enter his office, I had recently had enough and decided to quit MI5 and all the bullshit they put me through after last mission where I got shot right through the thigh when one of their fucking retards who were supposed to back me up wasn't paying fucking attention. Sherlock lost it when he seen me lying in the bed, the adrenaline wasn't worth putting him through that shit anymore, so I quit. _

_Mycroft did not take it well, he bribed, bargained, begged then screamed until our throats were raw. But I can see it in his eyes, he did something. Something I am going to hate. I can feel the feel prick my spine at his defeated stance and sad, red ringed eyes. He's been crying, the thought strikes pure terror into my heart, but not as much as his next words do._

"_I'm sorry Cass. I'm so fucking sorry."_

_He continues on to explain how he fucked up, he put us in danger, my name was out. _

_I was frozen in shock as he explained how I had to disappear, I had to leave and I couldn't come back until the man after us was caught, a man I had recently fucked over who got away. We weren't worried because we were told he was just a rat, a nobody, a pussy who wouldn't do anything. _

_Fucking liar._

_ Mycroft stood and took it as I scream every profanity I could think of. I'm sobbing by the end of it and I only start crying harder as he tells me that Sherlock is in danger, and then tells me of his ploy to faking my suicide and where I am to go, how they are hoping to abolish him within 8 months. _

_I spend the night wrapped around my husband, and when I awaken I do as I was told and start yelling, screaming untrue things, saying things to Sherlock I will never forgive myself for. He's crying, begging me back as I pack and leave. I don't allow the tears to fall until I am completely out of sight. The next day I watch as they tell Sherlock of my "suicide" and how he breaks. I broke him. And I will never forgive myself as I walk away from the one person in this whole world I would die for._

8 months my fucking ass. 6 fucking years later.

I'm pushed out of my memories as Lestrade walks in, it takes him a few minutes of our staring war for him to break and rush to me, hugging me tightly and I can hear him trying to contain his sniffling. I awkwardly wrap my arms around him and pat his back until he is strong enough to pull away from the embrace. The three of us stand awkwardly, slightly unsure how to respond to one another.

Lestrade shakes himself "We missed you Cass, it's amazing to have you back. I'm sure you are happy" he tries to smile at me, but you can see the nerves are eating at him.

"We will see after today how happy I am to be back" we all grimace as the truth we were all ignoring is laid out.

Mycroft clears his throat "Doctor Watson will be here within the next 5 minutes, he is arriving via Alana who has went to fetch him and Sherlock will be here within the hour." Those words instantly make me sick to my stomach, I can feel the panic rising and I try to quell it and just breathe through it.

Mycroft and Lestrade can both see it but choose to ignore it in favour of staring at their shoes and pretending the female in the room isn't about to have a panic attack.

I control myself just as we hear the car pull up outside.

John slams in with an annoyed look on his face.

"Mycroft! Please! I don't even live with him anymore I cant help you- Cassidy? What are you doing here? What's going on? Is everything alright?"

His concerned face and tone is making me want to sob.

Mycroft starts the conversation "Doctor Watson, Pleasure as always. Unfortunatly this meeting is going to be rather lengthy so you better call the missus and cancel dinner plans." John looks extremely confused but after a smile from Lestrade he pulls out his phone and calls mary explaining that he thinks there may be an emergency and that he will be late home.

When he hangs up his face shifts and hardens into his "soldier glare"

"Explain." His voice is all gravelly and there is no room for argument.

"John, I would like to formally apologize for what is about to occur." The confused look he gives me makes me nervous.

"My name is not Cassidy St. Clair. My name is Cassidy Holmes. I'm Sherlock's wife." I can hear the shake in my voice as distinctly as I can feel the tremor in my hands. He simply stares at me until he fully processes it.

"Sherlock is married?! Since when? How long have you two been-"

I interrupt him in his rambling "Widowed. He is widowed." If at all possible he becomes even more confused.

"But, But you are alive!" his eyes are wide and innocent as he looks at me incredulously.

"Not to him I'm not. I was officially dead until, oh about, 46 hours ago. Suicide. Faked, obviously" I can see his eyes darken in anger as I ramble on as I explain the danger and as I stop to breathe before I tell him I am planning on returning to him he bursts.

"Do all the fucking Holmes fake dead?! I thought it was bad enough that Sherlock did but now his fucking wife?! Let me guess, is Mummy faking dead? Do you guys have a sister hiding in Fuji?!" He is full out yelling by the end of his tirade. By the looks on Mycroft and Lestrade faces they are leaving this shit up to me. Assholes.

"Mummy is fully alive and always has been, no sister and it was just Sherlock and I, but I did it first. He just followed suit when the situation called for it." I kept my voice calm and placating. I can see him working through and processing so I continue. "I am returning to him today, coming clean, but he may not want to be around Mycroft, Lestrade or myself. We were hoping you would help him through this."

His eyes sharpen at me and I feel like a bug on a microscope "He still doesn't know?! Poor bastard. Of course I will help, why doesn't he mention you? How long were you together?"

I sigh in relief that he is no longer yelling at me "We have known one another since I was 5 and he was 6, we dated young and married at 18. I've been gone 6 years. And he will be here in approximately 20 minutes. Thinking he has a meeting with Lestrade and Mycroft about a case. And I believe he does not mention me because it hurts too much, he tries to ignore his heart."

John is nodding and I can see him thinking and processing all that I have told him.

He continues to ask questions of how we did it and such, thankfully I am able to lose myself within my own thoughts because the two lazy gits in the room finally come in handy and are answering all his questions.

In the middle of discussing how we will tell him we hear a cab screech to a halt out front.

We all stare wide eyed, tense as we hear the door slam. We hear someone enter the elevator. We all freeze.

I cannot take my eyes off the elevator door as I hear the buttons being pressed then the elevator rising. As it reaches floor 3 we are all stood still in tense agonizing silence.

The elevator hesitates, and finally the doors slide open.

_**Sorry for the cliff-hanger, Review ;)**_


	5. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or any of the franchise.

Good luck with this chapter my lovely viewers

**Chapter 4**

**Sherlock's POV**

The cab screeches to a halt in front of Mycroft's building.

Fucking bugger calls me in as if it's any of his business what MY cases entail. If Lestrade and him weren't fucking he wouldn't be involved. I'm sulking as I throw the cash at the cabbie and stride into the lobby, ignoring everyone while I go straight into the elevator.

I'm trying to prepare the ultimate annoyed voice as the doors open to Mycroft's office.

"Lestrade was it really necessary for this to occur in-"

**Cassidy's POV**

I'm not breathing. I'm going to cry. Or puke, or both possibly. I hadn't expected him to come in all fucking raged but I suppose with him it's not that surprising seeing as Mycroft is involved.

He's staring at me.

Why is he just staring? My lord those beautiful grey eyes. I missed him so much.

Speak. Move. Do something you fucking dimwit. Honestly after 6 years you think I would have had time to prepare instead I stare like a fucking loser.

"Sherlock?" Mycroft's voice is soft and worried.

Sherlock shakes his head slightly as if he had just awoken from a dream.

"Can you see her?" Sherlock is demanding, obviously to the three nimrods in the room but he is staring straight at me, it's so intense I can feel the almost uncomfortable shot of arousal down my spine, oh how I missed this. It makes me want to fall into him and never come out.

"Sherlock.." out of the corner of my eye I see John shuffle slightly closer to the stock still detective.

"JOHN. CAN. YOU. SEE. HER" Sherlock's voice is so sudden and loud I flinch. I can see him instantly regret his volume in response to my jerk. He looks worried and my heart sings until his eyes harden again as he stares at me blankly.

"Well, Yes but Sherlock-"John's voice is frantic.

"Out." The single word is aimed at the three others if the jerk of his head towards them is any indication, even though his eyes stay on me.

I can see him slowly falling apart on the inside. I suddenly understand. He didn't want to believe, he thought I wasn't real, He thought he lost his mind and was imagining me. Oh my sweet poor lover.

The men stand still until they realize who it was directed at, then they proceed to rush out, all but Doctor Watson who is forcibly removed by Greg and Myc. The door shuts quietly behind them.

Silence. And then there were two.

The silence is deafening and I start to shake from the nerves and the intense desire to cry, but I refuse to allow the tears to fall. I am strong.

"Hello Sherly." Fuck. I can hear the tears in my voice. My whole body is trembling then sudden warmth.

My body is instantly relaxed, I didn't see him move, and I don't care. He's holding me. He's hugging me like I'm the most precious thing to him, I can't stop the tears.

I can feel wet heat running down my neck and fingers, hands, a perfect cupid's bow as they all frantically move over every inch of me they can. He's crying and touching as though he needs to do everything in a swift amount of time, as if I'm going to disappear. Again.

The fleeting touches turn into both of us sobbing and grabbing any part of one another we can. Then suddenly his lips are on mine and it's like I was never gone, minus the tears that are streaming down both our faces.

His kisses are frantic, trying to push, taste, take and give all at the same time.

It turns into more teeth and tongue then lips but its sheer perfection.

I can't tell who is shaking more, but it does not matter, we are together, we are one again.

One arm around my waist and one in my hair holding my head in place as though he were scared I was going to bolt. My hands are simply trying to hold on for the ride, one in his lovely curls and one under his armpit holding his shoulder. It's awkward and sloppy and the most beautiful thing I could have ever imagined.

We stand there for what feels like an eternity even though it was no more than 45 minutes.

We aren't kissing. Simply lips touching lips, eyes staring, tears till falling. We have brought ourselves to the floor, me sitting in his lap with my knees on either side of his hips while his knees are up behind my ass as though to cage me and hold me as close as possible.

He's the first to break the silence. "I don't care. I don't want to know. I want to move on. I don't care about the 6 years. Just tell me you are home for good and that you love me. Please." I can hear the desperation in his voice. My silly boy.

I press my mouth to his ear, stroke him curls and whisper "I'm home, for good. I will never leave again. I love you, I'm yours. Take me home."

He jumps up with me in tow and practically sprints to the lift with my hand in his, hauling me behind him.

In the lift he refuses to let me and holds me so the whole right side of my body is pressed tightly to him, shoulder to ankle. We leave the lift with the same brisk pace.

The cab is there in an instant and suddenly I'm on his lap in the cab, the cabbie refuses to say anything about the strange, probably illegal sitting arrangement.

"221b Baker Street. Now." Sherlock's voice is still shaking as he is recovering from our crying session, but it is no less intimidating and within minutes we are pulling in front of the flat I had only seen pictures of.

He drags me up and into the hall then into his bedroom faster than I can process. He hands me pajama bottoms that will obviously be too big and a tee-shirt that is soft and smells like him.

I check the clock on his side table, 5:00. A bit early for bed and a bit late for a kip, but I won't complain as we both change for bed as though we were back before I left, as though I'd never left and we still did this every night.

The sheer glee of the domesticity is intoxicating. We crawl into our respective sides and lay with a few inches of bed between us, just simply looking at one another.

I've been looking at him for almost two hours now but it still feels as though I could look at him for much much longer. The silence is thick and tense until he sighs and pulls me closer into the cocoon of his arms and chest.

I place my head in the indent of his neck and collar bone. I feel boneless as I melt into him.

"We will talk tomorrow. Just allow me this peace." He is whispering into my hair and is stroking my back.

His breath is tickling down the side of my neck and into my ear but I could care less, I'm home.

"I love you." I whisper it into his neck, I can feel his breathe hitch at the words and his whole body shutters then relaxes.

I lay and feel as his breathe slows and evens out until I can hear his faint snores.

As soon as I'm sure he is asleep my mind shoots into action.

I finally realize I don't know what to do, where to go from here. I know he said he didn't want to discuss it, but I know he is too hurt by it to let it go so easily. I could feel his desperation to keep me, say anything to make me stay. I need to make sure he knows I'm not leaving ever again, unless he asks me to.

This whole event wet much different than I anticipated. I'm surprised and ecstatic at the turnout.

I'm cautiously optimistic for morning. He may kick me out, he may be unbelievably mad now that he has time to process but I do not care.

If he asks me to leave I will.

If he never wants to see me, it'll hurt like hell but I'll do it. I have right now, that's more than I could ask for.

I close my eyes and fall into dreamless bliss in the arms of the man I love.

**Hope you enjoyed. REVIEW, I want to know what you guys think :) THANK YOU**


	6. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or any of the franchise.

Thanks for the reviews and follows guys! Keep it up!

**Chapter 5**

To: John Watson

I am extraordinarily sorry for everything I put you through in the whole fiasco with my 'suicide'.

-SH

To: Sherlock Holmes

Not so nice when it happens to you is it mate? I hope things are well, and don't you worry about me. Enjoy that your wife is back. She's lovely. Congrats

-JW

To: John Watson

She is not my wife.

-SH

**Cassidy's POV**

Warm. Soft. Sherlock. I can feel the smile form on my face before I even open my eyes, and it is wiped away even faster when I realize I am alone in the big bed.

The sheets on the other side cold, showing signs that he has been up for a while. Sigh, I suppose it's time.

The flat is silent as I creep out of his room, maybe he left? Maybe there was a case he was called to and he left a note in the kitchen. Nope.

He's standing in front of the window, staring out blankly, we connect eyes through the window reflection, and I attempt a smile. The tightening of his facial muscles and the quick looking away is a swift kick to the fucking ribcage.

I can feel the unease settle into every nerve of my body as he turns slowly to look at me, I can see his eyes but it's like he's looking through me.

"I will allow you to stay here while your name is released once again. I've been informed you have a job at the clinic so you obviously don't need financial support, if so discuss it with Mycroft. I'm sure he will assist you, with anything apparently. I also have the legal divorce papers being written up as we speak, they should be here by this evening and I have connections so it should be done in a swift discreet manner. You're welcome"

He turns quickly and grabs his violin, tuning it.

The sheer agony of the pain rips through me and threatens to tear me apart, I can't breathe, I'm in shock.

"You can't just-"But he cuts me off.

"I can and I will, I don't know what game you are playing but I have been informed of everything. The secret fucking missions, the murders, the lying, all of it! I don't know you, and I don't want to. You are a pathetic cockroach whom I need to remove from my life." His tirade is stabbing me straight in the gut, I can't decide what's worse, the words or the hatred in his eyes.

His eyes. Something is off. This isn't right.

"Sherlock.. Are you high?" The trembling in my voice is horrendously masked.

His loud sudden cackling makes me jump.

"You watched me fucking do it! Don't pretend any more than you are! Stop! Don't give me that look! She would never be afraid of me! Stop it!" He is screaming at me, what the fuck.

I don't know what to do. Wait, she? Does he think I'm not real!? The fuck is he taking.

He's back sitting with his violin, giving me the chance to prowl the apartment. My body is trembling, Sherly has never so much as raised his voice at me. The tears are steadily streaming down my face and the agonizing pain has faded but not disappeared completely. I pray it is only the drugs that made him say that.

Ah! There it is. The syringe is empty but the powder is not. The coloring is off. I rub it between my fingers and it is 3 different textures.

My guess is speedball with LSD.

Fucking idiot. My beautiful idiot.

I slowly make my way back into the sitting room with a syringe of mild sedative.

"Do you need some more baby?" The question makes me want to hurl but he looks excited.

"Oh yes, please, if I don't you will be gone. Help me." He's on the verge of tears. Fucking idiot.

I tie the tourniquet and gently insert the needle. He is petting my hair and murmuring about the 'divorce papers'. I wonder if this is normal.

As soon as he is out I am about to clean up when a little lady hobbles up form the downstairs flat with a gun in her hand.

Its pointed at my head. The fuck. Is this some sort of fucked up mob sitcom?!

Shes glaring at me "I don't know who you are, but if you killed him I swear to fucking god-"

My mouth drops open "I did not kill him! He's high! I needed to sedate him so he couldn't hurt himself or anyone else! Who are you?"

Her eyes only get harder at my words "I'm his landlady, who the fuck are you?"

"I'm his wife." At my words she lowers the gun and she rushes over to me and hugs me.

I'm frozen in shock, I finally shake myself enough to listen to her rambling words.

"He's always raging about divorces and I never know what to do, I want to help, but I'm old Hun, as you can see, and he's such a good boy I can't help but want to make the pain go away, but it's always the same, stress, Needs high, violence, case, case, crash, high. Crazy boy but now you are back! Thank lord! I'm Mrs. Hudson dear! Your landlady!"

"How long?" I dread the answer, my stomach feels sick.

"As long as I've known him. Apparently since about a month after your death." Her eyes are sad and hesitant and she is holding my hands as though I'm going to fucking bolt.

6 fucking years. Fuck.

Breathing is hard as the tears pour out rapidly. Mrs. Hudson looks worried, like a grandmother, it's almost creepy.

I know I've done it for a while, but my beautiful brilliant boy. I can't breathe. The thought makes me want to curl up and hurl. I can't stand myself, I hate myself, what the fuck have I done. I should have stayed away. No, I can fix this. I can make it better. I can help.

Mrs. Hudson is in the kitchen, probably making tea, and she's muttering. Sigh, Women.

I sit on the couch and just look at my beautiful husband. I check the clock, only like 10 more minutes now, then hopefully we can talk.

**6 Hours Later**

I sigh as I shut the door behind Mrs. Hudson. Lovely woman, batty and very annoyingly chatty but she has such a kind loving heart. You can see her love for Sherlock. I'm happy to know he had someone within calling distance who can help.

Speaking of the fucking idiot, he's still passed out in his chair, the dork is just sleeping now, the sedative having been ineffective hours ago. His calm, sleeping face makes me smile.

I'm watching some boring lame sitcom when he finally starts to come to.

As soon as his eyes open, our eyes are connected, the surprised rush of breathe makes me nervous.

"I thought you weren't real, I thought it was another figment of my imagination. You shouldn't have had to see that. I'm so sorry." He looks so ashamed and heartbroken.

I don't say a word as I stand up and walk over to him, moving his arms and sitting on his lap. His hopeful eyes meet mine as he tightly wraps his arms around me.

The following kiss is all we need to say everything we can't say out loud just yet.

He tilts his head _I'm sorry_

I nip his lip _You are fine, it's all fine, we are fine. _

He presses harder and changes the angle _How?_

I smile and slide my tongue across his bottom lip _You're a genius, Figure it out._

He smiles into the kiss and hugs me tighter while tempting my mouth open _I Love you_

Our tongues battle until we give into sweetness and simply press our lips against one another, completely slowing down and simply looking at one another with our lips connected _I Love you too, We can do this._

"Okay." The simple word he breathes against my lips.

I didn't realize how badly I needed to hear him say that one measly word, but it fills me with hope. Hope for us, our future and our recovery, together.

**Just to clarify for everyone, when you take hard-core drugs like speedball (Cocaine and Speedball) and mix it with hallucinogens it can lead to extreme paranoia and hallucinations that you think you can feel. All the overwhelming effects of such drugs can led to anger, terror and desperation. Hence why he said things like that to her****. He did not mean them and they will move past from this****. Thanks to everyone for reading and sticking with me, I know this wasn't my best chapter, Thank you all. Please review! I love to hear your opinions! **


	7. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or any of the franchise

Chapter 6

Mycroft, Lestrade and John were sitting in Mycroft's office, he had gathered them together to discuss the power couple.

"He told me she wasn't his wife, what's going on?" John is the first to break the awkward silence

"I assume a mild domestic between the two, Sherlock is not good with emotions, sentiment, and I assume he finally processed her sudden return. CCTV shows no further sign of distress, I believe they are good for now." Mycroft is watching his cameras as he speaks.

Greg and John shoot each other a wary glance.

"Are you sure Myc? I don't know how I would handle it if I were him but it wouldn't be good, it must hurt. We only had to deal with a small fraction of what he's going through, we only had to wait two years for him and yes John was in love with him but they never actually had any promise for anything." Greg's voice sounds tired and worried.

"Hey! You don't know that!" It was obviously a sore subject for the good doctor.

"I'm sorry mate, but it's true, he's too in love with her to ever even look at anyone else. Besides, you're married now." Greg tries his best to not snort at his friends obvious pouting, must have picked it up from Sherlock.

The three men continue to chatter about future plans and worries for the reunited couple.

Mycroft breaks the worried nattering of the other two men "I don't think there will be any problems. Sherlock will be too ecstatic to have her back. He will move on. He loves her. He will make it work. They both will." With this the three men decide to go their separate ways.

**Cassidy's POV**

This. I missed this. A lot. It all started this morning being woken up by my beautiful boy excitedly exclaiming that we had a case. We. Together. So I instantly got up and dressed, which led to now, in a cab on our way to some crime scene. Sherly told me all about his job as a consulting detective, the only one in the world, fuck yeah that's my man! I am pumped to finally be out of the flat, our little bubble is amazing but we both have much too short attention spans for that all the time.

I look at our intertwined hands that are resting on my thigh, I can feel the sheer ecstasy of it rush through every vein in my body. It's nice to be home.

We exit the cab, still holding hands and walk up to Greg, he takes a quick glance at our united hands and smiles brightly.

"Good morning Lovebirds! Body is upstairs, first door on the left. Anderson is there, try to be civil." He gives Sherlock a meaningful look that is ignored by the tall detective as he starts moving and lightly tugging to get me moving as I try to ask who Anderson is.

"He is a stupid imbecile who can't do his job and cheats on his wife as though it were his job." Sherlock practically snarls, it's so sexy, his jaw tight and his teeth gleaming dangerously behind his curled lip. I can feel the heat rise to my neck and face, he merely smirks at my arousal.

As we enter the room with the body we unlink our hands as he moves forward to inspect it.

I stand near the wall awaiting his instruction if he needs me. a greasy obtuse man starts spitting hate towards Sherlock as soon as he catches sight of him.

"Freak! What the hell are you doing here!? We've got this. Go home to your pathetic little experiments-"

Ugh, hes staring at me. Why. Oh god, is this Anderson!? Fucking nasty ass little creep. His leery gaze is giving me a slow run down as he tries to sexily swagger towards me, fucking pathetic.

"Hullo beautiful, can I help you?" he's trying to use a 'sexy' voice, it sounds more like a snake and he spits more than a fucking pan full of bacon. Fucking creeper.

"No." My voice is hard and irritated. He doesn't get the fucking hint.

He smiles wider and moves closer, just as I'm about to throttle the little fucker a hand grabs the back of his head and yanks back until his back is arched painfully. Sherlock's furious face looks down at him.

"Anderson would you care to explain to me why you are wasting your time attempting to seduce my wife, who is obviously extremely disinterested and looks exceedingly uncomfortable?" Sherlock's voice is pure rage and his face is furious. The room is suddenly uncomfortably warm.

"She, your, wife!? You have a wife!? She's too hot to be your wife!" Anderson is red in the face and its tight with obvious pain showing in every feature.

"She is my wife and I will slit your throat if you even dare talk to her. Are we clear?" Sherlock tightens his fist and Anderson cries out in pain.

"Please let go! Plea-"Anderson is spluttering

"Are we fucking clear?" Sherlock whips Anderson up and against the wall with his forearm again his throat.

Anderson is nodding his head furiously. Sherlock lets go, grabs my hand and pulls me down the stairs with him.

"Lestrade, you're looking for a 6'7 black male with a whip kink, he will live near Piccadilly, is approximately 45 and will be on Mr. Whites client list." Sherlock turns to walk away when Lestrade grabs his arm.

"Mr. White?! Who's Mr. White?" Lestrade looks dumbstruck

"Your victim" Sherlock shakes Lestrade off and starts to walk with me trailing behind him, a complete mess of arousal and need.

"Oh, And Lestrade, if Anderson touches Cassidy again, ill rip his fucking throat out. Consider that next time you call me on a case because she is my partner. She will be here and I don't make threats I cannot complete. Have a nice evening Graham. Tell Mycroft to lay off the cameras." Sherlock strides away and automatically pulls us into a cab I didn't even realize he had flagged down, the look on Lestrades face is rage as he storms into the building we had just vacated.

As soon as the cab door closes I'm in Sherlock's lap as I devour his mouth, he makes a surprised squeak but catches up quickly and grasps my hips with the grip of a man possessed with lust. My obscene moan is borderline pornographic, I start to move my hips when I hear the cabbie yelling at us. We break apart, panting.

"Seriously guys! Keep it together! Where do you need to go!? A fucking motel 6?"

I manage to sit myself in the seat beside him as Sherlock rattles off the flat address.

I can feel his hand on my inner thigh, moving upwards slowly, teasingly. I bite my lip to hold in my begging. Just a bit more. Just a little ways. Ah! His hand is moving the other way! No! I shoot a sharp glance at him, the fucking bastard is smirking. His hand rests on my thigh unmoving as I pout the rest of the ride.

As soon as we reach the flat he throws money at the cabbie and practically shoves me to our door. We fumble for keys and struggle to get it into the lock in our haste. As soon as we get in and the door shuts my legs are around his waist and he is fucking my mouth with his long, talented tongue. My hands are woven in his hair as he finally gets a move on up the stairs.

I hear a faint "Oh dear." From Ms. Hudson as we ascend the stairs in our lust filled haste. I quickly forget it as his hands grip my thighs and move up towards my pussy. I moan into his mouth at the first light touch, the noise makes him snarl and practically sprint to our bedroom with my still wrapped around him, we finally make it to our bedroom and the door slams behind us.

**Hope you guys enjoyed! Sorry I haven't updated the past few days, been a bit busy but I have the next 5 days of straight nothing so I can do a bunch of writing and possibly finish, but we will see! Review! Thanks guys! **


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or any of the franchise**

**Thank for the reviews guys! Keep it up, sorry I've been slacking on updates. **

**Chapter 6**

**Cassidy's POV **

Memories are what have gotten me through the past 6 years, memories and destructive habits.

Sherly had to go away for a few days for work, he tried to convince me to go but I think a few days for both of us to process and consider our relationship will be good for us.

I'm fingering through the few scrapbooks I was able to get through before I started committing myself more thoroughly in my job with Myc.

Pictures bring back so many fond memories. Some even I had forgotten in the whirlwind of my life.

_Sherl just arrived home from the grocery store and I surprised him with a flash picture as soon as he waltzed in the door. _

_His hair windblown, cheeks rosy, eyes wide and glassy from the wind in his face and the surprise of the flash. _

_He looks so handsome I can't help but kiss him, he's surprised but what man would say no to a kiss from his beautiful girlfriend? _

_Of course on kiss isn't enough, until he drops the bag with the eggs. We look at the egg on the floor, look at each other then burst into hysterical giggles at the ridiculous situation. _

Cleaning up the egg was disgusting at the time but the domesticity and silliness of the situation sweetens the memory and brings a smile to my face and a flutter in my stomach.

_Our first time like most was messy and awkward, but the sheer enthusiasm made up for it._

_His gangly arms and sharp elbows are everywhere he's kissing me like a hungry wild animal and rutting himself against my belly as though his cock is parched and my body is his water. He's desperate and it's so fucking hot._

_He's desperate for me, not any other slut who tries to fuck him, me, his girlfriend whom he loves and would do anything for, and the thought that he wants me is a bigger turn on than anything else._

_It's awkward and over very quickly, I don't cum but the sheer pride on his face makes up for it all, I'm glad we did it and hopefully with practice we will be more productive in the Cassidy area._

I sigh, practice makes perfect is exactly the rational. It's extremely true.

_We are at some new club that opened up, we are both dressed to the nines and sipping on our drinks, we are planning to take a cab home and have wicked drunk sex. _

_The buzz between us is obvious to our little group of friends who had come with us and had to sit through us eye fucking each other all night. _

_I was wandering off to the little girls room where I had to go down a little strip of hallway to get to it, as I turned to the hallway and walked two steps towards the women's, I felt an arm wrap around my middle and push me past the washrooms and into a dark alcove at the end of the hallway._

_If I didn't recognize the smell and the feel of my gorgeous boyfriend behind me I may have panicked. Sherlock proceeded to grab my thighs and wrap my around him, his eyes looked wild and dangerous._

_He growled, bit my neck and simultaneously put his hand over my mouth to muffle the loud groan that flew out at the violent move. _

_His lips move to my ear and his voice is gravelly and angry _

"_The man at the bar has been looking at you all night, I bet he wants to fuck you, do you want that? Do you want him?" I shake my head desperately, needing him to touch me, kiss me, keep fucking talking I don't even care._

"_Damn straight you don't fucking want him, you are mine, let's give him something to fucking look at."_

_As we left the little hallway we noticed our friend had left in our absence. That's fine, that makes it easier for us to go home and finish what Sherly had started. I could feel the man from the bars eyes land instantly on the bruises on my neck and thighs. _

_Sherlock was walking like he had won the fucking lottery with his arm around my shoulders, my panties in his pocket and his smirk that had taken them off on his face full fledge as he turned his head and winked at the man. _

Yes the sex had gotten much better the more practice and research we did. Even through the harsh fuckings and the violent possessiveness we showed we always had sweet moments and I knew he loved me, he showed me every day, even when I had started my job with Myc, always with loving texts or with just random as fuck pictures or spontaneous Skype dates, but it was always pure heaven coming home to him.

_I had just come home from a long 2 week trip away from home for a fucking mission in South Africa, it was fucking useless and I could have been done in 4 days but the fucker said "Patience Cass, we need to follow the plan" Fuck the plan! I'm tired and I just want food, a kiss and a cuddle in bed with Sherlock. _

_As I walk in the door I see the candles, hear the soft music and smell Sherlock's famous risotto and my exhaustion and irritation lifts. _

_I close the door and set my things down as quietly as I can and wander towards the kitchen. I lean against the door frame and watch Sheryl's back as he mixes and chops and tastes until I can't be away any longer._

_I lay my hands just under his shoulder blades and slowly rub them up to the top of his shoulder blades then back down his sides until I am lightly holding his hips, I press my body against his and he relaxes into me and we sit there silently just reveling in the reuniting of us. After a few quiet moments he flips the stove off and turns, one hand going instantly into my hair and the other winding around my waist, pulling me flush against him as he kisses me deeply and slowly, taking control of my mouth and worshiping it, making me melt and submit to his slow seduction. _

_After a few moments he pulls away just enough so our lips are just brushing one another and he whispers "welcome home love" In that soft velvety baritone I have come to crave. _

_The words and the sweet homecoming makes my heart clench and tears prick my eyes and run down my face. _

_Without missing a beat he kisses them away one by one and whispers that he missed me too. _

That was the first time I actually regretted my job, lying to him and being away. That was when I started hating myself for what I was doing. I had wanted out then.

_I stormed into Mycroft's office with a solid determination. The minute he sees the look on my face he stands and utters a single word that would start the biggest screaming match we've ever had._

"_No."_

_The things we yelled after included every insult we could come up with, every argument and counter argument possible until we were both hoarse and red in the face, barley able to look at one another. _

"_You can't get out, it's too late. If you leave you will both be in danger, do you want that? Sherlock could be targeted." _

_I hate him, I can't even look at him. _

"_You did this, you put the both of us in this fucking position. You fucking liar. I hate you and I hope you burn in fucking hell." I stormed out ignoring the hurt and the guilt on his face. Fuck him._

_Sherlock didn't understand what happened, Myc and I were fine until one day we just weren't, we wouldn't attend the same family functions and the one time we tried everyone was so uncomfortable they stopped inviting us to the same ones. _

_Every time he tried to question it I would change the subject and he started asking about it less and less. Until he stopped. Things between Mycroft and I did not get better until it was the news of my fake suicide, the truce we formed was created in a desperate situation, we would never be okay, But at least we had that. _

Like normal people we fought, unlike normal people he proposed in the middle of one.

"_I don't fucking understand why you have to leave all the time, I don't understand what is going on! Just tell me! Are you in danger!? Obviously you are because you have a tendency to come back fucking injured or fucking exhausted! I can't help you if you don't tell me!" Sherlock is red and angry and upset and it's all my fault. The guilt threatens to suffocate me._

"_I-I'm sorry baby, I'm so sorry. Please just trust me." I'm begging him to let it go, to understand. Tears are steadily running down my face as I try to make him understand that I just can't. _

_He pulls me into his arms and I can hear his little sniffles that give away his own tears._

"_I cant lose you Cass, you are everything. How will I know if you get hurt? I can't handle it."_

_Those four words strike pure mind-numbing terror into my heart. It feels like I'm going into an anxiety attack and I can't stop the words from pouring out in panicked bursts of breathe._

"_Please baby, no please, I love you, don't leave me, don't lose me, don't let me please I love you I love you don't do this I can't lose you, don't let me go." I'm practically hyperventilating and he swiftly hugs me harder and tries to calm me._

"_Baby no, calm down, I'm sorry that's not what I meant!" He's suddenly grabbing me. His lips are moving over mine frantically, he's grabbing my hand but I'm too focused on his mouth and the words to notice the ring he slips onto my left hand. By the time I notice he is already talking and has gotten through half the speak, I miss all of it and I don't start listening I just jump him, kissing him and crying, wrapping myself around him and saying yes as many times as I can._

_He finally sighs, frustrated and puts his hand over my mouth, I look at him confused. Did I misinterpret?_

_He's muttering and I can't tell if it's at me or to himself. "Fucking crazy, doesn't even let me get the damn words out."_

_He looks at me and his whole face and stance relaxes. _

"_Now, may I ask you without you going all psychotic on me?"_

_I shake my head no and he chuckles at me and looks at me with amused eyes shining with happiness._

"_Cassidy, Will you marry me?"_

We did it two months later with only close friends and family. It was beautiful and awkward and perfect, which is exactly how I would describe our whole relationship.

I look at the clock on the wall and realize that Mary will be over in a little under an hour, it's the first time we have seen one another since before the whole Cassidy was actually 'dead' fiasco.

I rush to put away all the albums and get ready. By the time the doorbell goes I am showered and dressed, and nervous as fuck. She's my only actually female friend and I hope she won't smack me for lying to her.

My worries vanish as I open the door to Mary smirking at me with mirth in her eyes.

"Hullo Mrs. Holmes"

**Thanks for reading you guys! Review! Hope you enjoyed some of the memories of their relationship **


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or any of the franchise**

**I'm SO sorry guys! I hope this chapter makes up for my horrible updating. LOVE YOU GUYS.**

**Chapter 8**

**Cassidy's POV**

I ushered Mary into the kitchen where I had sandwiches and tea set out. Not being one to wiggle around the subject Mary started.

"How's it feel to be back?" The usual prickle of unease tickles my spine

"It's… different. I don't know what to do or how to act, with Sherlock, with anyone. It's stressful, it's like we are who we were before the incident but we aren't. I know we aren't but it's so calm and normal, I can't help but feel it will all fall apart and very soon." The words won't stop and I can feel tears prickle the edge of my eyes.

"He's being so understanding but I wish he would just snap then there wouldn't be this tense feeling, I know it will happen and I hate waiting, I just need it to happen so we can clear the air or at least I can be aware that we are breaking up instead of this constant choking fear that its coming. I need to know and he is no help. I don't know what to do Mary, and it's tearing me apart." Mary is hugging me and I am sobbing into her blouse by the end of my rant.

"So you're doing well then?" I cough out a laugh at the quick wit of my closest friend.

After my mini break down we sit down, nibble and have a long discussion on what I should do, how her pregnancy is and how generally our lives have been. By the time she is putting her coat on and kissing my cheek we are both contently happy and confident in our decisions and discussions. She shoots me a saucy wink and saunters out into the cab waiting for her.

Once I have cleaned up and prepared myself a cuppa I sit on the sofa and consider what I am going to do, but my mind wanders.

_I am in the basement of this fucking psycho's house, squatting and awaiting the orders from Adere, He was supposed to call in a few minutes ago and I'm getting antsy._

"_Yo! You fondling your balls up there?! Can I go?" My voice is gruff from the dry air and dehydration of being in the desert with no water for hours. _

_I hear Adere's grunt of frustration towards my impatience _

"_Yeh, you can go up you fuckin lunatic. Don't fuckin die."_

_I roll my eyes at his words, it doesn't even matter if I do anymore. I don't even care. _

_Death would be fucking perfect right about now._

The depression had started long before I "died" but it got much much worse while I was away.

_The feel of the blade running up my arm, the blood slowly pooling and running oh so beautifully down my arm. I don't feel a thing, cocaine will do that for you._

_Bliss. I move out of the bar bathroom and sit on a random drunk man's lap, sloppily kissing him, grabbing his dick. The drugs don't care, they don't care who he is, if he has a family or if he's sober. Apparently by the sheer enthusiasm he doesn't either. _

_Waking up in random empty hotel rooms, houses, apartments or even worse, not empty. _

_Leaving only to go out and do it again. _

"_I'm Adam"_

"_Hey ssexyyyy I'm Dave"_

"_Isn't Cassidy beautiful in pig Latin?" _

"_I'm Jordan"_

"STOP!" The silence that follows my outburst is deafening.

So many stupid men, so many drugs and I can only remember bits of it.

There is no point, no end. It'll never go away.

In this moment I've made a decision. It will be hard, almost impossible but it has to happen.

I spend the rest of the day planning and preparing for what I am going to do.

The memories and the weight of my decision make me so sad, so tired. I go to our bedroom, grab Sherlys pillow and lay down cuddling it, the closest thing I have to him.

I slowly drift to sleep with his scent calming my senses and lulling me to a deep sleep.

* * *

I wake to a long, strong arm wrapping around my waist, another under my head, a nose at my hairline and a beautiful cupids bow kissing the back of my neck.

My body melts into his and I grasp the hand near my head like a lifeline.

The tears flow steadily, I don't care why he is back early, I'm just so happy he is, I don't dare question it.

As the tears hit his arm his whole body stiffens and he holds me tighter.

"Cass? What's wrong?" I can hear the worry and fear in his voice and it makes me cry harder.

I turn myself in his arms so my head is nuzzled in the conjunction between his neck and shoulder.

His hand that I was holding goes into my hair, patiently running through in attempt to calm my trembling body.

"I don't know how to say it." My voice is broken and congested.

"Say what? Just try." He sounds afraid of the answer, maybe he should be.

"I'm a wreck. I'm not stable. I'm.." I don't know how to get the words out.

"You're what?" Sherlock is starting to sound panicked. I run my hand over his side, attempting to comfort him and prepare him.

"I'm going to leave. I need to." There. They are out. That's it. Why isn't he yelling? He is as still as a statue.

Sherlock suddenly yanks himself away and hauls himself out of bed, the move startles me and I freeze, not having enough time to comprehend what just happened then suddenly the light is on and Sherlock's furious face is staring at me in disbelief.

"What do you mean, Leaving?" His voice is calm and devoid of any emotion. My heart is destroyed. But I need to do this.

"I'm leaving London." My voice is strong despite the tears streaming down my face and my shaking hands.

"Where are we going?" No, No, No, No, No, No, No, No, No! Dammit Sherlock.

"Not WE, just me. Alone." I see his eyes shift around to calm himself, that's when he spies my bags in the corner of our room. If possible his face gets angrier. My nerves are strengthening at his reaction. I expected hysterics. I can handle anger.

"What am I supposed to do? Fucking pretend? Pretend you never came back? I fucking can't Cass! Don't you understand?"

"I need to do this. I need to know how to take care of myself and be alone in a safe environment, be normal. I don't know how to co-exist anymore. I need to figure myself out before I can be with you. I am so sorry that I did this to you. I am so sorry. This needs to happen." His face is slowly transforming from angry to tired. He looks older than I have ever seen him, my nerves are making it difficult to shut up.

"You need time to think about my return and get your feelings sorted out, I need to get myself together. We need this, It was unrealistic to think we could just jump right back into this, maybe when I'm sorted I can come ba-"

"Don't. Just don't" His interruption makes the air between us tense and awkward. I can see the wheels turning and I can see the different emotions playing out across his face. Anger, fear, heartbreak then finally, sadness, acceptance, understanding.

He finally manages to meet my eye.

"Do you know where you are going? Do you need anything?" He sounds wrecked, it shreds what is left of my heart.

"No. I will get a cab and go. You don't ever have to hear from me if you want, I will leave and never return if that's what you want."

"We will see. Are you leaving right away?" He sounds on the verge of tears.

"Yes."

He gives me a quick nod and springs into action, calls me a cab and then puts his coat and scarf on.

At my confused look his eyes soften.

"I can't watch you leave me. Good luck with whatever it is you are doing." He turns to go, hesitates then turns, gives me a big hug and then he is gone down the stairs and out the door.

I stand still for a moment, enjoying the sentimentality of our last embrace.

I slowly haul my bags out, put on my coat and shoes.

I take a slow look at the flat that is just like its owner, crazy, beautiful, unique and honest. There is nothing in this flat that is set out to impress or appease, it is what it is.

With that thought and a deep breathe I hear the cab honk, grab my bags and walk out of the flat 221B Baker Street into a world I haven't been reacquainted with.

**So that's! There will probably be one more chapter just to appease my romantic side, it will be short but for the most part this is it! I hope you guys enjoyed it for what it was. I may come back and edit to make it more thorough and complete but for right now, this is it. **


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